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| Subject: The Crockery Cracks | |
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Author: Max (Awarded by andy) |
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Date Posted: 15:39:41 01/14/08 Mon The Crockery Cracks With the silence of sorrow screaming continually The music of the moment a weeping cacophony They watch our tearful stares from our musical chairs With hearts hollow and broken, dumbfounded and numb He falls to his knees, this last prize scant pleasure As we run and hug the life out of this treasure While clutching and clawing our salty tears flowing He whispers softly to me, ‘Look after them son’ In the dusk of this dead evening we grieve as he leaves. Then we jolt and we scream and we all spin around To the soul splitting sound of the crockery thrown down Mum’s banshee wailing our senses assailing In our cowering cuddle, we wait for her to succumb Then in a stuttering blubbering agony she comes Around my broken angels I wrap my scrawny arms My heavy heart still heaving consoling all their grieving Innocence incensed by the mantle of the man I become The world turns and in time all wounds heal. Yet the tears of all the years can’t quite quell my fears And in startled surprise I might drop a cup and hear Every time the crockery cracks, instantly transported back To the sorrow screaming, to the night that broke our home. Inside the man I am the boy I was still screams. (C) Max Hardy 2007  [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |